The sky is gray, the clouds are heavy with rain and I want to sea. My bare feet sink slowly into the cold sand. I go to the shore and let the lungs are filled to smell salmantro while the hair begins to become heavy moisture.
There is no sun and the waves are high. They crash at my feet and loudly ' water reaches the tips of my fingers, do not even try to escape. I look frozen, but I have no shiver down my spine.
I look down looking for shells, but I find only a few fragments.
Snippets shells and fragments of memories.
A room in the shadows, dressed casually scattered on the floor, fingers interlaced between tousled hair.
The wind is strong and I begin to feel cold. Cold and cold on the skin under it.
instinctively put his hand around his neck, as if to make sure it is there where it was made.
Neither the damp wind, nor the waves, nor the sand have taken away the cold.
My snow is still there, where he put it. Hot as my skin, like his hands.
Photo: Fiumicino, the sea of \u200b\u200bPassoscuro.
Photo2: Odelin who can not stay away from water and soaks all the jeans ...
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